Of Hurting Fathers and Broken Sons
by Freakin' Yoda
Summary: After receiving news about Jason's current situation - his erased memories and the pending battle between the League of Assassins and the Untitled - Bruce, Dick, and Tim rush to his aid. However, will they get there in time? And, even if so, will Bruce be able to heal the rift he has let his grief create between he and his three remaining sons?
1. Chapter 1

**_If you see my Dad,_**  
**_Tell him my brothers have all gone mad._**  
**_They're beating on each other._**  
**_I walked around,_**  
**_Even tried to call._**  
**_Got that funny feeling_**  
**_He's not there at all..._**

** - "Had a Dad" Jane's Addiction**

* * *

Dick Grayson peeled into the Batcave, using his access codes he had since he and Bruce reconciled after Tim became Robin. The tires of his bike screeched as the vehicle came to a stop and Nightwing jumped off, removing his helmet as he stormed over to the Batcomputer, where Bruce was standing. The Batman's uniform was on, but the cowl remained down.

"Dick. What are…"

He was cut off by Dick throwing his helmet towards the wall. It hit with resounding force, bouncing off and hitting a cart full of medical supplies. Normally, the light-hearted superhero would wince and immediately clean it up before Alfred had to, but as it stood, he hardly registered the mess he had just created. Instead, he glared at Bruce, ripping away his mask so the man in front of him could see the narrowed eyes beneath. His shoulders moved up and down as his anger became apparent in his breathing. Finally, he spoke, though it was low and through gritted teeth, nothing like his normal tone.

"What the hell did you do?"

Bruce opened his mouth to speak. His face was pinched, visibly angry at the outburst from his eldest. However, Dick Grayson could register the confusion and, even more so, concern that crept onto the older man's face at Dick's outburst. The softening of the lines around his eyes, the way his fingers had scarcely flexed at his side. However, before the man could even speak, Dick was shouting.

"What did you do?"

"Dick, I…"

"I just got a phone call from Kori about Jason, telling me what he did and that he did it because of _you."_

Bruce was sure that even with all his training, he couldn't stop his face from paling slightly. What was wrong with Jason? Had he gotten himself into trouble again? Was he hurt? Was he…was he dead? Bruce's heart constricted as his mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. He couldn't lose another son. He couldn't lose Jason twice. He knew he had been balancing precariously between sanity and madness since Damian's death and losing yet another son would no doubt send him careening into the deep end. The Batman inside of him screamed for some sort of calm, that he had lost soldiers before and could survive that again, but the father inside him couldn't hear the Dark Knight's voice over the pulsing of blood in his ears.

"Is Jason...?" Bruce couldn't bring himself to utter the dreaded word, so instead he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried a different approach. "Is he alright? What happened?"

Dick looked at him incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief as an angry scoff and a bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "You don't even know what he did to himself, do you?"

Panic raged inside of Bruce. Jason had…had done something to himself. No, that wasn't Jason. He was a fighter, a survivor. He would never harm himself. That was too easy for Jason, and Jason never felt comfortable floating through life. He wanted to be battling uphill, letting life know it couldn't do him in. Not even death could.

"No, Jason wouldn't…he…" Bruce tried to reason aloud, trying to convince himself more than Dick, who looked on with no sympathy as the normally composed Batman fell apart. Maybe it was the even smaller amount of sleep he got since Damian's death. Or maybe it was Damian's death himself that had left wounds that his true emotions could now visibly slip through.

"You don't even deserve to know. Don't worry, I'll clean up your mess. Wouldn't be the first time." Dick turned on his heels to leave, causing Bruce to call out to him.

"Dick."

The younger man stopped at the shout of his surrogate father, still having enough respect and gratitude toward the man engrained in him to do so, but did not turn around.

"Please, Dick, just…tell me what happened to Jason." Some of the panic had receded due to Dick's choice of words. He said he would fix this, meaning Jason was still alive, still able to be saved. But, Dick's outburst and the unyielding anger told Bruce that whatever had happened was very, very bad.

"No." Dick said.

"Dick!"

"No! You don't deserve to know!" Dick said, spinning around on his heels. "You lost Damian and that has screwed you up, which is completely understandable. I even expected it after seeing how you fell apart after Jason. You didn't care about anyone's grief but your own. But that was fine, because it was just me in our little screwed up family. You pushed me away, treated me like crap, but I could handle it."

He stepped towards Bruce, hands balled into fist. "But you do not have the monopoly on grief when it comes to Damian, and he is _**not **_your only son left. Do you think this is easy for me? I raised that kid for a year while you were gone! And what about Tim? I know from experience that having a poor relationship with your dead successor brings a ton of regret and grief no one his age should have to deal with. And do you really think Jason would handle another dead Robin well?" He took a moment to inhale deeply. "But you just pushed Tim and Jason away after Damian's death and would have done the same to me had I not taken off to Chicago before you could. Hell, that's probably why I took off to Chicago!" He paused, taking a breath as he unsuccessfully tried to calm himself. "I can handle this, I'm used to it. But Tim and Jason needed you…"

"Spare me the lecture! What happened to Jason?" Bruce demanded, hating that he had snapped at Dick. He didn't want to fight with his son, not when he had lost one, pushed away one, and the other was…well, he didn't know what Jason was at the moment, but he knew it couldn't be good.

"Apparently, you did something to him. Kori and Roy aren't even sure the details but he went back to the All-Caste, where their place was. He had some guy called S'Aru wipe _all his memories _because he was sick of being tainted by the darkness."

Bruce's eyes grew wide as he shook his head at Dick. "No."

"Oh, yeah. Then the League of Assassins showed up and now Jason is leading them in a war against the Untitled, because he thinks they're the good guys or something. Kori and Roy were going to try to talk some sense into him, but I haven't heard from Kori. She said she'd check in twelve hours ago and hasn't. Now two of my best friends are missing and my brother is left without his memories in the middle of what will undoubtedly be one of the bloodiest battles any of us have ever seen. Care to tell me what you did to cause this?"

Bruce scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. "I convinced him to go with me after some bounty hunters who had been targeting Damian before his death."

"I'm sensing a 'but' that I'm really not going to like."

"But, I really just needed an excuse to take him to Ethiopia."

Dick's eyes narrowed even more so than before. "Ethiopia?"

"The Magdala Valley."

Dick's fist flew on its own according, slamming into Bruce's jaw, causing the man to stagger back. When he turned to face Dick, he was met with another punch. He took a step back before facing his eldest son. When he did, he could see the snarl forming at Dick's mouth, as well as the white knuckles from how tightly his fists were clenched.

"You son of a b****." He shook his head. "You were trying to get him to help you bring Damian back by making him relieve his own death! Just when he was getting past it! Just when he was ready to come home, to be part of the family again, you made him dredge all that up!"

"I…"

"No. You're done talking. You're going to get in the plane. You're going to get whatever resources and call whomever you have to ensure that Jason is home, safe, with us by the end of the day tomorrow. I don't care what you have to do, who you have to call, what favors you have to pull. You are going to do whatever it takes – _whatever it takes – _to bring _my brother_ home, memories intact. And then you are going to find a way to earn his forgiveness for all the s*** you've screwed up when it comes to him. The memorial case that's still standing, calling him a solider rather than a son, the video where you called him "your greatest failure" then had _me _play it for him when I had no idea what you had said to him, for locking him up in Arkham, and for finally gaining his trust back after all these years just to throw it away like it was nothing. I don't care what you have to do. I don't care if you have to grovel at his feet or, God forbid, show emotions for once! I will not lose another brother, Bruce. Get the plane ready while I go call Tim. You remember him, your adopted son, right?"

With that, Dick stormed past Bruce, knocking his shoulder hard with his own, not looking back, even as Bruce slowly sat down in the chair behind him and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

Let me know if you like the first chapter! I should have the second one up shortly! Thanks for reading! Please review!

-Casey Gillespie  
*James 1:12*


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi friends!_

_First off, thank you all so much for the reviews. They honestly mean the world to me. Thank you so much!_

_Now, I just wanted to clear some things up on his one, because how I'm characterizing Tim is a wee-bit more preboot than the others. I, honestly, don't follow the New 52 Teen Titans that closely, so I'm not 100% what's going on there. I do know that Tim was drugged during his time with Joker during "Death of a Family," thought I don't know the exact fallout. Basically, I touch on it a bit, but if you need more clarification, let me know and I'll definitely get more into it next chapter._

_Also, I'm keeping Tim's origin story as it was in the preboot universe. Meaning that Tim's parents are both deceased, he's been adopted by Bruce but emancipated during Bruce's year away, and he was the only one thinking Bruce was alive. I tried to explain things clearly, but again, if I did a crappy job of that (which is a real possibility), just let me know._

_Again, I own no one. DC does though. :)_

* * *

**I may never know how it feels to stand beside you**  
**Or take your hand when I need some direction**  
**And I may never know what it's like to see you smile back at me**  
**Or know you'd be proud of me**

** - "From Underneath" Hawk Nelson**

* * *

The flight to New York City was filled with a tense, awkward silence. The two barely looked at one the entire flight, Batman flying the plane toward the new Teen Titan's base. No words had been spoken since Dick had boarded the plane, fuming because Tim had not answered the call neither from Dick's cell nor the Batcave phone. Before they had taken off, he had muttered something under his breath about how he should have called on his phone first, because Tim probably had a heart attack when he saw the Batcave caller ID and assumed Bruce was _actually _trying to get a hold of him.

Mercifully, the flight to New York wasn't that far and they were finally at the new base of the Teen Titans, a very large yacht, which caused Dick to raise an eyebrow. He hadn't known Tim had purchased this. He cast a glance sideways to Bruce, but the Batman was already out of the plane, walking towards the door connecting to the helipad. Dick quickly followed.

The door opened before either hero could reach it, and Timothy Drake stepped out, full Red Robin persona.

"What's the matter? Did something happen to Alfred?"

"No, Tim. Nothing is the matter with Alfred." The Dark Knight responded, quickly.

"Then why are you here? You'd only be here if something was wrong." Red Robin explained, before casting a suspicious eye around the boat.

"Where's Jason? Is he…"

"That's why we're here." Batman's explanation cause the younger hero to suck in a loud breath, eyes growing wide behind the domino mask he now wore.

"He's not dead." Nightwing comforted, pushing past his mentor with an eye roll at the man's lack of tact. "But he is in trouble."

Tim studied them both closely, then sighed, opening the door to the base and motioning them inside.

* * *

Tim leaned back in his chair after Dick and Bruce had explained what Jason had done and what had led him to such drastic measures. Their masks lay on the table in front of them. Tim hummed to himself. "That explains why he hasn't called in a while. It's normally once a week. Just figured he'd got busy."

He then turned to his company, asking evenly. "So, you guys are going after him?" He received nods from the other two, causing him to arch an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Why? Cause it's Jason. He's family!" Dick sputtered out.

Tim fixed his eyes on Bruce, before looking at the ground. "I just, didn't think Bruce would take time to save any of us."

Bruce remained silent as Dick turned his gaze from one to the other numerous times, before he saw the look Tim was wearing. At first, he thought it was one of anger, but after looking closer, Dick saw the heartache the teen was trying to mask.

"No." Dick exasperated, throwing his head back against the chair, before lazily spinning it once, a groan escaping his lips. "What did you do to Tim?"

Bruce, knowing that not answering would only delay the inevitable and Jason needed him now, said. "I visited Frankenstein to try to figure out how he stayed alive."

"To bring back Damian?" Dick gaped. "You were going to play horror movie magic on Damian?"

"I was going to do whatever I had to do to bring my ten-year-old son back." Bruce snapped.

"And that's exactly why we're here in the first place, having to go save Jason!" The former acrobat shot back. "Now, what does this have to do with Tim?"

"Alfred figured out what I was doing. Tim was the only one fit to come after me. We exchanged words."

"What did you say to him?" Dick demanded, before turning to Tim. "What did he say to you?"

"He told me the only one who "deserved" better was Damian because he's the only one who trusted him. Then stormed out and we haven't spoken since." Tim explained indifferently.

Dick turned and glared at his mentor. "You said that! To _Tim _of all people! The one who…"

"Dick, it's -."

"Don't you dare say it's fine, Tim. After everything you've done for him. The audacity of him to say -."

"Please don't start playing the big brother card now, Dick."

Dick's mouth moved wordless, his eyes wide and focused on Tim, before he finally managed to sputter out, "What?"

"Dick, you haven't spared me a second glance since you took the pixie boots away from me." Tim didn't sound angry, he sounded tired. "I told you Bruce was back, and you thought I was crazy. Then he came back and I thought since you didn't have a ward anymore, you'd have time for me again. But you don't call, you don't text. You used to hug me every time you saw me."

Dick began to move in protest but Tim held his hand up, shaking his head.

"That wasn't an invitation to come hug me, Dick. I'm not asking you to change your priorities. I'm no longer one of them and that's fine. I'm just saying you shouldn't cast stones at Bruce. He isn't the only one who hasn't called to check in on me."

"And it's not like I except him to, either. " Tim explained with a shrug. "It's not like he's my Dad."

Bruce looked up at this, eyes marginally wider than usual. "Tim, I…"

"It's okay. I'm emancipated now. I thought maybe you'd want to change that when you came back from…time or the dead…and be my Dad again. But you guys both had Damian. And that's fine."

He gave a sad little smile, before an alarm on his utility belt started beeping softly. He sighed, reaching into the belt and pulling out a small syringe filled with a pale blue liquid. He took off his left glove and after tapping the side of the tube a few times, injected it into his naked hand, hissing quietly as the needle entered his vein.

"What's that?" Dick asked, a note of concern lacing his question.

"Oh, this? It's to counteract the "Ha" venom I got hit with back when Joker abducted Jason and me."

"You what?" Bruce asked loudly, chair scooting back as if he planned to jump out of it, but thought better of it after a moment.

"It's okay. We didn't catch it until about a week ago. These guys don't know me well enough to tell that I was acting off, but we were able to find an antidote for the new strain. I've been meaning to forward it to Alfred, but we only just got it figured out a few days ago. The injections every twelve hours help keep the aftereffects at bay."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bruce asked. "I could have helped you. You should be at home, resting."

"I figured you had more important things on your mind. Besides, this is home. Or it's as close as I've got." Tim shrugged. "It's fine. It's really fine."

He stood up. "I've got to go grab some more of the medicine out of my room and then we can get going." He started to move towards the exit, but Dick's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and halting him. He met Tim's eye with a haunted, heartbroken look.

"Timmy…" His voice was strained, entreating.

"Dick, really, it's fine."

Dick closed his eyes, his voice taking on a hint of pleading. "Please stop saying that." His finally looked at Tim. "This isn't fine. Nothing about this is fine. I…you were attacked by Joker and we didn't know. _I _didn't know. You had to deal with it alone."

"It is what it is. Besides, I' m used to alone." Tim gave a small smile, devoid of anger or malice, just full of resignation. "I'll meet you guys at the plane."

With that, Tim wiggled his arm free and left the room, as the two eldest heroes looked on, Bruce with a blank expression while Dick's was full of anguish.

As the door shut, Dick buried his face in his hands, sitting there for a moment before he shot up and started pacing. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Dick?" Bruce questioned.

"I always promised I wouldn't do this. That I wouldn't push people away like you. That I would bridge the gap between our family and the rest of the heroes. But what did I do? I cut Tim, _Tim _of all people out. After everything he's been through, all the people he's lost…" He chuckled humorlessly. "I pulled a you." He shook his head at himself. "I haven't even talked to him since Damian…"

"Besides our fight up north, neither have I."

"Speaking of, how _dare _you say that to Tim? You do realize he is the _only _one in the entire superhero community who actually thought you would come back. You would have never made it back, never gotten to know Damian, never gotten to reconcile with Jason had it not been for Tim. If any of us deserved the truth, it was Tim."

Bruce looked away before sighing. "I know."

"And you haven't even talked to him about his being emancipated? Do you think that makes him feel wanted? He loses his spot as partner and son in one go?"

"Dick," Bruce sounded exasperated. "I know."

Dick shook his head and ran an agitated hand through his hair. "We're fixing this." He motioned between himself and Bruce. "_We _are fixing _all _of this. Everything. Tim. Jason. You and me." He picked up his mask and studied it intently. "I'm tired of not having a family." He muttered, and not for the first time that night, walked away from Batman.

* * *

_Well, that's the new chapter. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think so I can write the best story possible. Thanks guys!_


End file.
